


And then...

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-30
Updated: 2006-09-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 03:56:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8695567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: What happens after my fic "A Succubus' Kiss."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

Title: And then...  
Author: Kali  
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Dean  
Rating: NC-17  
Category: Half PWP half angst  
Word Count: 5193  
Spoilers: None  
Summary: What happens after my fic A Succubus' Kiss.   
Notes/Warnings: People asked for a sequel and I am helpless against suggestion. It was meant to be another pwp but mutated on me. As for warnings, other than the incest and the fact that Dean comes three times in one night, it's fairly average. Comments and con crit are loved :D  
  
  
Sam shifted uncomfortably, absently flicking through the pages of Dad’s journal. He didn’t really expect to find anything, both he and Dean had read it cover to cover and not found any single clue as to their wandering father’s whereabouts. He just needed to do something with his hands, something to keep his mind occupied and away from the flickering images in his mind, of calloused hands on his skin and quiet moans and fuck it but he cannot be getting hard again.   
  
Sighing, Sam reached down to carefully adjust his jeans, flicking his eyes over to where Dean was sleeping. He wished, not for the first time, that Dean would bother to wear more than a pair of ratty boxers to bed, because he had pushed the covers down to his waist and Sam couldn’t stop staring at his nipples.  
  
Sam growled to himself and tossed the journal onto the desk, running a hand through his hair and making it stick up at all angles. It had been three days since the incident with the succubus and Sam could just not stop thinking about it. He wondered if it was a side-affect of the kiss, if it didn’t have lingering effects. Unfortunately, the only people who might know were locked up in a padded room. Hours of searching the net hadn’t given him any indications that anyone else had survived the kiss. Probably because no one really knew what was happening to them until too late. And, of course, they didn’t have a sexy as all fuck brother standing by to fuck their brains out.  
  
Sam blinked and wondered just where that thought had come from. Not that he didn’t know Dean was attractive, there were few people alive who didn’t know that, it’s just that he wasn’t supposed to think of it like that. It was one thing to know, in a detached sort of way, that his brother was good looking, and another to look at Dean and get hard.  
  
Sam sighed again and glanced at his watch. Still to early to go out and get coffee, the only place that sold anything drinkable wouldn’t be open for another two hours. Shaking his head, he picked up Dad’s journal again and opened it up to a random page. Which just happened to be a ritual cleansing to be performed for anyone suffering from psychic attack. They’d used it last month on a young girl in Iowa. Bullying had reached a whole new level of nastiness, Sam thought bitterly. He skimmed the list of required items, all of which they already had. Holy water, a few random herbs, some quartz crystals, and a blessed dagger.   
  
Then Sam realised that he was actually considering performing a cleansing ritual because he was lusting after his brother and threw the book across the room. Dean jerked awake, hand automatically going for the hunting knife under his pillow, and blinked blearly at Sam.  
  
“Dude, what’s wrong?”   
  
“Nothing. Go back to sleep.”  
  
Dean, of course, ignored him completely and just put the knife back udner his pillow before sitting up and looking seriously at his brother.  
  
“You get any sleep yet?”   
  
“No. I was… doing some research.”  
  
“On what?”   
  
Sam glanced at him but quickly averted his eyes. He really did not want Dean to realise that he couldn’t stop staring at his chest.  
  
“Just browsing the net, really.”  
  
“Ah, looking up internet porn huh? Shoulda said, I could’ve given you some good links.”  
  
Sam only rolled his eyes at that and Dean shook his head, lying back down and dragging the covers over his chest.  
  
“Whatever, dude, just be quiet, yeah?”  
  
Sam nodded and waited until Dean was asleep before retrieving Dad’s journal from across the room and looking at the cleansing ritual again.  
  
\---  
  
The next day, Dean announced that he was gonna go stir crazy if he spent one more minute in the motel room and decided to spend the day tinkering with his car. Luckily, Sam managed to grab what he needed from the car whilst Dean was out scrounging for some tools. Dean had Metallica blasting from the radio and it easily drowned out Sam’s chanting as he stood in the salt circle and annointed himself with a mixture of holy water and sage.   
  
He knelt down and bowed to the four corners of the world, before smearing some more of the holy water and sage on his lips and above his heart. Quietly chanting the next verse, he breathed in the heady incense that was burning just outside the salt circle. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he spoke the last phrase and prepared for the big finish.  
  
The crucifix around his neck burned hotely, searing his flesh without leaving a mark, scorching the skin to reach his heart, invisible tongues of flame trailing through his veins and wrapping around his mind. He groaned through gritted teeth, trying not to scream with the pain, and told himself that it was worth it, this was nesecary.   
  
It ended as quickly as it began, the crucifix cooling and becoming just a lump of blessed metal once again. He gasped, shaking his sweaty bangs out of his eyes, and struggled to stand up. He staggered into the bathroom to wash the holy water and sage off his skin and staring at his reflection in the dirty, cracked mirror. He didn’t look any different, expect perhaps a bit wan, and he tried not to notice the dark circles under his eyes.  
  
Sighing, Sam wandered back into the room and twitched aside the drapes to see what Dean was up to. He had stripped down to just jeans and a tee shirt, the tight material clinging to his biceps. Sweat and grease stained his forearms and he had a wrench shoved in the waistband of his jeans. Sam licked his lips, eyes travelling down to watch Dean’s ass as he leaned over to reach something in the hood of the car.  
  
“Fuck!” Sam spat out, letting the drapes fall back into place. The damn ritual hadn’t done a fucking thing, he was still drooling over his brother’s body. Which, he was forced to admit, meant that the succubus had nothing to do with it. It was all him. Jesus fucking Christ, what kind of freak was he that he was lusting after his own brother?  
  
From outside, Dean shouted a frustrated curse, followed by the sound of something being thrown to the ground, probably whatever tool Dean was currently holding. Sam chuckled and before he knew it, he was opening the door and leaning against the doorjamb to watch Dean work.   
  
For once, Dean seemed to be completely unaware that he was being watched, continuing to work with the kind of focus that he only gave to his car, or whatever he was currently trying to kill. He reached for tools without having to look to see where they were and managed to twist his body in the most interesting way to reach whatever he was trying to work on.  
  
Sam smiled. He’d always enjoyed watching Dean work on his car, it was one of the things he’d missed most when he was at Stanford. they’d been doing too much hunting lately for Dean to spend any real time with ‘his baby’, so he was doing a thorough job now, checking and re-checking every little part and making sure it was absolutely perfect. Sometimes he would murmur encouragements to a particular part, gently coaxing it to do whatever the hell he wanted to. Sam had given up long ago trying to know anything about how a car worked. He knew how to hotwire one and that was enough for him.  
  
Dean stood up with a groan, arching his back and stretching until something cricked. Sam was about to offer to get him a beer when Dean tugged his tee shirt up over his head and used it to wipe the sweat from his body. Sam’s mouth was suddenly drier than the Sahara and his jeans were way too tight.  
  
Dean turned and raised an eyebrow at Sam. “Hey, dude, how long you been standing there?”   
  
Sam tried to think of something to say but couldn’t. All he could do was stare at Dean’s sweat-slick chest, his jeans hanging low on his hips, a smear of grease just above his belly button. Sam dragged his eyes across his brother’s tanned flesh and fought the urge to touch himself.  
  
“Sam? What’s wrong?”   
  
The concern in Dean’s voice was just enough to kick some sense back into Sam’s mind and he abruptly turned on his heel, stalking back into the motel room and slamming the door behind him. He threw himself onto his bed and muttered every single curse and swearword he knew. It didn’t make him feel any better, though, and he couldn’t help tensing up when he heard the door open. He didn’t open his eyes to look at Dean, just heard him sit down on the room’s single chair.  
  
“Alright, dude, spill. What’s wrong?”  
  
“Dean, I-”  
  
“Don’t even try, Sam, I want the truth.”  
  
Sam really hated it when Dean was like this. Serious, intense and fucking stubborn as hell. He sighed when he realised that Dean wasn’t going to let this go, not until he had this answers. Forcing himself to open his eyes, he sat up and looked at Dean, thankful beyond imagining that Dean had put his shirt back on. He couldn’t quite look his brother in the eye, though, instead focusing on Dean’s shoulder and trying to figure out the right words.  
  
“Ever since..” _You fucked my brains out_ ”...That night, I’ve been… I’m kinda… fuck it, I’m attracted to you, Dean!”  
  
He blinked, not sure where that outburst had come rom. Then he looked at Dean and was mildly surprised to find that his brother was still sitting there, albeit with a rather surprised look on his face.  
  
“And that’s it?”  
  
Sam stared at him. He’d been expecting a huge confrontation, possibly even a fight, and this was turning out to be rather anti-climatic.  
  
“It’s not enough?” he demanded roughly, and Dean chuckled.  
  
“Sammy, look, you narrowly escaped madness-by-succubus, there’s bound to be a few lingering side-effects.”  
  
Sam sighed again. “There’s not.”  
  
Dean raised an eyebrow at the quiet finality in Sam’s voice. “And you know this because…”  
  
“I performed a cleansing ritual on myself just now. I’m pure. Or, as pure as I ever get.”  
  
“Huh.” Dean was silent for a few minutes, thinking about that. the fact that Sam had gone so far as to cleanse himself was worrying. He looked at the floor and noticed that there was indeed a salt circle there, as well as some incense and various other things, including Dad’s journal.  
  
Dean didn’t even bother trying to deny that he was rather pleased this was Sam’s problem, and not something else. It took are of his own problem rather nicely, or it would, if he could convince Sam that it wasn’t wrong or bad.  
  
“I’m still not seeing a big problem here,” he said after a while.  
  
“What? Are you crazy, Dean? We’re brothers and I can’t stop staring at your chest!”  
  
Dean had to grin at that, which of course made Sam glare at him but how else was he supposed to react?  
  
“I’m sorry, Sam, but I’m just not seeing a problem here. Think about it, what else have we got left but each other? We’ve only ever had each other. You know my sexual preferences and I know you’re experimented so that’s not even an issue. And frankly, we’ve done a whole lot worse than fuck each other.”  
  
Sam shivered at those wors and turned his head away, his thick bangs obscuring his eyes. After a moment he sighed and shook his head.  
  
“Can we not talk about this anymore?” he asked quietly and Dean rolled his eyes, but nodded anyway.  
  
“Sure. I’m gonna go get some coffee. Or possibly beer. You want anything?”   
  
“No, thanks.”  
  
Dean shrugged an quickly walke out of the room. As he ambled over to the nearest off lisence, he tried to think of a plan. This was gonna eat Sammy alive if he didn’t get over it. The trouble with Sam was that he was obssessed with being ‘normal’, and this was too much for him to handle. At least, not without a little help from Dean.  
  
\---  
  
He’d decided to let things rest for a couple of days, give Sammy a chance to calm down. He figured four days was enough and waited eagerly for night to fall. They’d been cooped up in the motel room all day, waiting for another job. Sam had been his usual quiet self, barely speaking more than a handful of words, and Dean prayed this would work; he wanted his brother back.  
  
Flicking off the light, Dean slipped underneath the covers and listened for Sam. He knew he wasn’t asleep, he wouldn’t get his usual two hours for a while yet, and after a second he could hear the soft, steady sound of his breathing.   
  
Grinning in the darkness, Dean pushed his boxers down and brushed his fingers down his growing erection. His breath went out in a quiet sigh and he licked his lips. It didn’t take much to get him fully erect, a few quick strokes and thoughts of Sam’s delicious body and he was good to go.  
  
Not surprisingly, his mind drifted back to the night in the forest. He remembered Sam’s tear-bright eyes and the way he had writhed and moaned beneath him, straining up to meet his thrusts. He thought about Sam twitching and groaning when he bit his neck and sucked his nipples.  
  
Dean wrapped his hand fully around his cock and bit back a moan. Had to keep quiet for now, be subtle. But fuck was it hard with the phantom taste of Sam in his mouth and the ghost memory of Sam’s skin under his hands.  
  
A soft sound from Sam’s bed, a quiet sigh of cloth on skin, and Dean wondered if Sam had rolled over, if he was watching him. The thoguht of Sam watching him jerk off made Dean shiver and thrust up into his fight fist, his cock leaking precome over his hand.  
  
His spare hand trailed up his chest to pinch his nipples, eliciting a gasp. Another shift from Sam’s bed and he knew for certain that sam was watching him. He shivered again and let a groan spill from his lips.  
  
“Dean… what are you doing?” It was a tentative question, quiet and almost whispered. Dean moaned again in response, arching his back and stroking his cock faster and harder, pinching his nipples again and dragging his short nails over his chest, imagining it was Sam’s hands on his body.   
  
He opened his mouth to say something but what came out, quite unintentionally, was, “Oh fuck.” He could feel Sam’s eyes on his skin, burning an electric trail over his chest, knew his brother was staring at him in that quiet but intense way he had, and it was doing crazy things to his libido. He decided that if Sam did get over his hang ups about normality, then they were gonna have to try this again because having Sam watch him wank was threatening to give him one of the best damn orgasms ever.  
  
Sam sat up suddenly and pulled on his jeans. Dean let him, watching his shadowy form through slitted eyes, and waited until he’d stalked over to the door before speaking, forcing his tongue to shape proper words and not just something useless like ‘oh fuck fuck fuck’.  
  
“You sure you wanna… oh fuck… miss the end?”  
  
He was pleased to see Sam stop, turning his head fractionally, just enough so that he could see Dean out of the corner of his eye. Dean grinned and let his head roll back on the pillow, his stroking taking on a desperate tone as he felt his orgasm building. It only took another moment, a few quick strokes before he was arching up and crying out Sam’s name. A second later he heard the door slam and he slumped back on the bed.   
  
Through the plesant haze of post-orgasmic bliss, he stared at the closed door and prayed Sam came back. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed wanking in front of Sam, he just hoped it was enough. He hoped that hearing Dean come crying his name would have the desired effect, convince Sam that Dean was more than okay with the idea of incest. If it wasn’t, if it just freaked Sam out, then he didn’t know what he’d do, didn’t even want to think about what it would do to their relationship.  
  
Dean sighed and went to clean himself up in the tiny little bathroom before sitting down to wait.  
  
\---  
  
He was surprised to find himself jolting awake when the door opened. He hadn’t realised he’d fallen asleep and he glanced quickly at the clock before his attention snapped back to Sam. He was lurking in the doorway, face obscured by the shadows and his body practically thrumming with tension. For a moment, Dean wasn’t sure if he was just going to turn around and leave again, but then he was closing the door and leaning against it.  
  
“You said my name.”  
  
Dena didn’t have to ask when, he just nodded. “Yep.”  
  
“Why?”   
  
“Because I was thinking of you.”  
  
Sam twitched at that and looked at his shoes for a moment before looking up at Dean through his bangs.  
  
“You had better be serious about this, Dean,” he warned. “Because if you’re playing games, I’m gone. For good.”  
  
“I’m serious, Sam.”  
  
And that, apparently, was all Sam needed, because the next moment he was striding across the room and capturing Dean’s lips in a fierce kiss. Dean moaned and arched up into the kis, reaching up to pull Sam to his knees. It was a harsh kiss, almost a fight, and when they broke away they were both breathing heavily.  
  
“Tell me this is okay,” Sam whispered against his lips and Dean almost shivered at the desperate need in his voice.  
  
“It is, Sammy, this is more than okay.”   
  
Sam kissed him again, softer this time, then placed a trail of kisses along his jaw and down his neck and it was only when he felt Sam’s lips on his collarbone that Dean realised he was still clad only in his boxers. He blinked down at the top of Sam’s head and couldn’t stop a small moan when Sam suddenly licked his nipple.  
  
“Been wanting to do that for ages,” Sam confessed quietly, his lips still pressed to Dean’s chest. Dean tried to think of something clever and witty to say, but the words died in his throat when Sam slowly pushed his boxers down to free his achingly hard dick.  
  
“You don’t have to,” Dean said, a rough edge of lust to his voice contradicting his words. Sam looked up at him and smiled.  
  
“I want to,” he said, bowing his head. Keeping his eyes locked on Dean’s face, he opened his mouth and took the head of Dean’s cock in his mouth, tongue swiping across the slit and tasting the precome that glittered there. Dean choked on a moan as Sam took more of him in his mouth, closing his eyes as if he wanted to focus entirely on the cock in his mouth.  
  
And fuck but Sammy looked obscene like that-lips red and shiny, stretched wide around the head of his dick. Dean’s breath hitched and he tangled one hand in Sam’s hair, holding him in place as he slowly thrust into his brother’s mouth. Sam let him, sucking hard and letting his tongue slide up and down the underside of Dean’s cock. Dean groaned, throwing his head back because the sight of Sam sucking his cock was threatening to send him over the edge and he really didn’t want this to be over so soon. He wanted this single moment to stretch on for hours and years and all eternity because it was Sam, fucking _Sammy_ , sucking his cock and giving him the best blowjob he’d ever had.  
  
And then Sam started humming and Dean had to wonder how he figured out that was a good thing because it was a very very absolutely fucking great thing and the vibrations were buzzing along his cock and up his spine and right into his pleasure-frazzled mind and he couldn’t think beyond the warmth and the pressure and the all-consuming _sensations_ of Sam, his little baby brother, sucking his cock.   
  
He isn’t even aware of when he comes, he’s just shouting and screaming and thrusting into Sam’s mouth and not caring that he was probably hurting his brother’s throat.  
  
Dean gulped down huge breaths of air, trying to calm his racing heart just a little but it was hard because that was the best fucking orgasm of his life. Blinking, he looked down and saw that Sam was still sitting between his knees, looking up at him with that weird intensity that was fast becoming familiar. His lips were shiny with spit and come and Dean pulled him up for a kiss, tasting the salty-bitterness on his tongue and moaning at the sensation. Breaking the kiss so that he could hold Sam to him and recover just a little, all he could do was breathe and try to order his scattered thoughts.  
  
“Jesus, Sammy,” he whispered harshly when he could. “Jesus, that was… you’re the best… fuck.”  
  
“I enjoyed that,” Sam mumbled against Dean’s shoulder, and Dean could hear the faint thread of disgust and self-hatred in his voice but didn’t acknowledge it, instead just forcing a shaky chuckle past his lips.  
  
“Yeah? You wanna do it again sometime? Because I sure as hell won’t complain.”  
  
“Dean-”  
  
“Shut it, Sammy. I’m not gonna let your hang ups get in the way of this. That was the best damn suck job ever and half of what made it so good is that it was you. So stop with the self-hatred, okay?”  
  
Sam’s lips twisted in a slightly nervous smile. “You sure know how to compliment a guy,” he murmured and Dean grinned. They were both silent for a moment before Sam leaned in to whisper in Dean’s ear, his lips brushing gently against the lobe.  
  
“Dean? I want you to fuck me.”  
  
Dean jerked at the whispered words, a dozen images and sense memories of what it was like to fuck Sammy filling his mind. And despite the fact that he’d come barely five minutes ago, he felt his cock twitching in response. He drew away to look at Sam, trying and failing to see any uncertainty in his eyes. Dean buried a hand in Sam’s hair and pulled him forward for a long, searching kiss. His spare hand edged under Sam’s tee shirt to feel his abs and Sam moaned into Dean’s mouth, leaning into the touch. Dean moved his hand up to his chest, brushing the pad of his thumb over Sam’s nipple before giving it a sudden, sharp pinch.   
  
Dean pulled away from the kiss, licking one last time at Sam’s gorgeous lips and smiled wickedly.  
  
“Get on the bed then,” he ordered quietly and Sam grinned at him, springing to his feet. He walked quickly to the bed, tugging off his clothes as he went. Dean watched him, drinking in the sight of his brother’s lean, nude body as he sprawled lazily on the bed. He took a dark breath and let it out slowly because Sammy was gonng kill him if he kept this up.  
  
Sam rolled his head to the side to look at him, one hand wrapping around his cock almost casually, stroking it slowly.  
  
“You gonna join me any time soon?” he asked and Dean smirked at him before standing up and stripping off his boxers with one rough, jerky movement. He heard the soft moan Sam tried to hide and grinned again.  
  
“So you got over your issues?” he asked, climbing on to the bed next to Sam and placing his hand over his brother’s. Sam groaned when Dean began to stroke his cock, running his thumb over the slit and gathering up the precome.  
  
“Yeah,” he panted, “Yeah, just-just fuck me already!”  
  
Dean chuckled and, because Sam had thrown his head back as if silently begging for it, nibbled lightly on Sam’s neck.  
  
“Patience, Sammy,” he whispered, rolling off the little bed quickly. Sam blinked in surprise,but before he had time to question it, Dean was back, holding a small bottle of hand lotion in his hand. He knelt down on the bottom of the bed and tapped Sam’s legs.  
  
“Spread ‘em.”  
  
A flicker of hesitation crossed Sam’s features before he slowly spread his legs. Dean could read in his eyes that he didn’t like being so exposed and he ran his fingers along the inside of his thigh, flicking open the cap of the lotion with his other hand.  
  
Squirting some of the cool cream on to his fingers, he coated Sam’s entrance, trying not to chuckle at his brother’s undignified yelp as the chill lotion touched his heated skin. Dean pressed his index finger past the first ring of muscle and placed a gentle kiss on Sam’s hipbone before sliding it in a little more. He worked slowly, not wanting to hurt Sam, and placed nibbles and licks and bites and kisses all over his abs, hips and thighs, each a tiny little distraction.  
  
“Anyone ever tell you that you’ve got a great ass?” he asked, washing his tongue over that little crease that seperated hip from thigh.  
  
“Not-ahh-not recently.”  
  
“Well you do. So fucking tight. Can’t want to get my dick in there.”  
  
Sam moaned, rolling his hips in tandem with Dean’s fingers. “Come on, Dean, come on, I’m fucking ready already.”  
  
“Pushy little bastard,” Dean murmured, but obediantly let his fingers slip out of Sam’s ass. He placed one last lick just below Sam’s navel before crawling up, dropping kiss all the way up Sam’s stomach and chest and throat until he came to those deliciously pouty lips.  
  
“I love having you under me,” Dean confessed against Sam’s mouth, flicking his tongue out. He couldn’t stop a small shout of surprise as Sam was suddenly twisting his wrist just _like that_ and hooking their legs together _like so_ and using his extra height and weight to reverse the positions and the next thing Dean knows, he’s flat on his back and looking up at a very smug Sam.  
  
“This works too,” he admitted with a quirk of a smile, and Sam grinned at him, his hair not quite hiding the bright gleam in his eyes as he slowly lowered himself on to Dean’s cock, throwing his head back and moaning loudly at the burning, stretching, absolutely fucking amazing feel of it all.  
  
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Dena hissed, tightening his grip on Sam’s hips enough that he knew there’d be bruises tomorrow. Sam moaned, leaning down so that he could kiss Dean, giving them both a moment to adjust before shifting his hips a little.  
  
“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean gasped as Sam rolled his hips, moaning again at the feel of Dean’s cock inside him, something that, until about twenty minutes ago, he’d refused to admit he wanted.  
  
Letting the sheets slip from his grip, Sam placed his hands on Dean’s chest, feeling how hot his skin was. Licking his lips, he scratched his nails down Dean’s chest like he’d seen him do earlier. Dean groaned and arched his back, causing Sam to moan in response and scratch again which just repeated the cycle over and over until they were both shuddering and gasping and moaning and trying to obtain just that little something more that would send them flying over the edge.  
  
Dean’s hands left his brother’s hips to grab his neck, pulling him down for a long, brutal kiss tinged with the raw edge of pure lust. Sam broke away with a choked moan when he felt Dean’s hand wrap around his cock, stroking it roughly. He tried to say something, Dean’s name or a plea or just random words, but they got tangled up in his throat and all he could do was make short little gasps of noise. He was gripping Dean’s shoulders hard enough that he felt his nails break the skin and bring up a few droplets of blood. Rolling his hips faster and faster, he threw his head back and screamed as Dean’s cock hit that perfect little spot that created starbursts in his mind.  
  
He bent down again for a quick, sloppy kiss before sealing his lips over Dean’s jugular, his own bitemark tingling in response as he dug his teeth into the tender flesh there and feeling Dean tense and hearing him scream and that was it, he was gone, falling over the edge until all he could do was scream against Dean’s skin as his body shock with the force of his orgasm. He was aware that, sometime during it all, Dean was coming too, but it was drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears.  
  
He collapsed on top of Dean, panting and trying to think straight and not really caring that he was probably crushing his brother. Not that Dean seemed to care at the moment, clinging weakly to Sam and breathing heavily.  
  
“Fuck,” Dean gasped out when he could. “Fuck, Sammy.”  
  
Sam grinned dazedly and rolled carefully off Dean to collapse beside him. “You soun’ so intelligen’ when you’ve jus’ come,” he murmured, not caring that his own speech was slightly rougher than normal.  
  
For a long time, the only sound was that of their harsh breathing and the slight shifting of skin against skin. Neither of them looked at each other, instead staring at the ceiling as they slowly came down from the heights they’d just reached. After a good few minutes, Dean shifted so that he could wrap his arms around Sam’s waist, pulling their bodies flush against each other.  
  
“Didn’t feel so wrong did it?” he murmured thickly into Sam’s ear, and his brother just mmmm’ed in response, too tired now to think about the possible consequences of what they’d just done. He heard Dean chuckle quietly and urge him to sleep, but then frowned when Dean’s solid warmth was suddenly gone. He thought about getting up, but his body refused to listen and a second later, Dean was back, carefully wiping his skin with a damp cloth. He tried to say thank you, but wasn’t entirely sure he managed the words.   
  
And then Dean was back, arms wrapped tightly around his waist, and that was enough for him. He thought he might’ve heard Dean whisper ‘I love you’ as he slipped into a pleasant sleep but, upon waking, was sure he imagined it because really, Dean had never said I love you in his life and wasn’t about to start now.  
 


End file.
